ACT 2: GTO Student of the Streets
by noctorro
Summary: A new year at Holy Forest has begun, and a street child wanting a promising future attempts applying at the prestigious academy. Not if Uchiyamada has anything to say about it.
1. Prologue: Meeting the Oni

**Disclaimer**

This fanfiction takes place one year after the manga version of Great Teacher Onizuka. Information referenced from the GTO stories come straight from the books. Any modifications to the storyline made by the GTO Live Drama or the GTO Anime Series is not included in this fanfiction. With the exception of this story's protagonist and main antagonist, all characters are the intellectual property of Tohru Fujisawa and not me.

**XXXXX**

Spring time marked a new semester in the school year, which usually started at the same time as the cherry blossom viewing festivals, serving as an adequate welcome back to school for most students. The large windows across the room had the blinds drawn, boasting a magnificent view of Tokyo in the midst of the season. Sun rays gave the room most of its light, overpowering the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Every so often, a cherry blossom pedal or two would blow by, brought up by the warm breeze, only to float back down gently to the ground, out of sight from the second story window.

Kenny stared nervously out the windows, desperately looking for something, anything to distract him from the shuffling of papers than rang in his ears; the only source of sound in this room. He sat in a chair that squeaked with the slightest movement he made. And with every squeak, his discomfort was made more apparent to the man who sat before him, behind a giant oak desk, wider than Kenny was tall.

"Calm down," the bald man behind the desk said, without taking his eyes off the papers before him. "This is an interview, not an interrogation."

"Yes, sir," Kenny said meekly.

The man adjusted the glasses sitting on top of his flat nose, the skin on his face and his bald scalp glistening under the sunlight with a thin coat of sweat. A few more tense moments followed when the man suddenly straightened his posture, gathered the papers in his hand, and flung the pile carelessly at Kenny.

"Garbage," he said.

Kenny blinked. Confused.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"You heard me," the man continued, "this is garbage."

"B…but," Kenny stammered, "that's why I'm here. I've never been to a school before so therefore in order to get an education …"

"How can you expect to be a student at Holy Forest Academy, one of the most prestigious institutions in all of Japan, and not have any educational background? You are thirteen years old for God's sake! And you're telling me that your whole life, you've never been enrolled in a school? Who takes care of you?"

"I … I take care of myself, sir," Kenny replied softly, feeling the uncomfortably warm shame rise to his face.

"That's vice-principal Uchiyamada SIR to you!" the man cried. Kenny dared not look this crazy old man in the face. Everything about him screamed experience, superiority, respect, from his square-shouldered, tanned business jacket, to the white dress shirt underneath and the black tie, to his immaculately white Cresta parked in the school's parking lot. Kenny knew it was his car when he saw the man get out of it earlier that day, upon his arriving to the school grounds for his interview.

"I'm sorry."

Uchiyamada snorted, folding his arms across his chest. "You should be sorry, alright, for ever showing your trash-face on school grounds such as this. It's bad enough you had the arrogance to prance up to any school and demand an education. But to _our _school?"

"Sir, I just thought …"

"No, you _weren't_ thinking! Then again, I guess that'd be too much to expect from someone like you, someone without the financial means to pay for private education, someone living off food scraps on the street. From the looks of this complete mockery of a resume, I would've guessed you were a street child, if it wasn't for the fact that you somehow gained access to a computer to get this shit printed."

"I need an education sir," Kenny replied, biting his lower lip hard to stop the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes.

Uchiyamada narrowed his at Kenny and sneered. "Even if you somehow managed to come up with the finances necessary to pay for your education, how in the world do you expect to keep up with your classmates?"

"I work hard."

Uchiyamada's face twisted, only for a moment, into a sadistic grin. He then, for no apparent reason, exploded in a fit of anger. "Get out of my office. I don't want to see you here, showing this piece of crap resume in my face, ever again!"

"But …"

"OUT!" Uchiyamada bellowed, pointing to the door behind Kenny.

The youth bent down and picked the scattered sheets of paper off the tile flooring and walked slowly out of the room, kissing his future goodbye. It had cost him twenty yen to get the resume printed, and another three hundred at the internet café to make it. Of course, that wasn't considering the countless hours he'd spent at the café prior to familiarize himself with the computer programs.

Change was not an easy thing to come by when you lived on the streets.

**XXXXX**

Kenny's stomach growled. Money that would've otherwise gone towards a decent breakfast of a sandwich was spent getting the resume printed. He'd skipped the most important meal of the day to show up five minutes early for his interview, only to have his investment thrown toward the floor.

"You're stupid, kid," he told himself as he attempted to sniff back the tears of disappointment and frustration, "stupid for ever thinking you could enroll into an education institution without any schooling." But it didn't make sense to his heart. Why would anyone need an education to get into a school? If an education was something he'd possessed already, he wouldn't be wasting his time, and his precious money on to get into a school! Why was the world one giant hypocrite?

Oh, well. Besides the small investment, it wasn't like he would lose anything if he didn't get into a school. It would be more of the same, for the last few years of his life that he could remember; sleeping in his cardboard box with the newspaper layers keeping him warm at night, charming the hell out of anyone with his innocent face and pick pocketing unsuspecting tourists for small change. It wouldn't amount to much; about fifty to a hundred yen per victim. But after an afternoon of stealing, he'd have enough money to live like a king for the rest of the day.

That was his brain's way of trying to calm him down, to think rationally. If he had managed to survive thirteen years with nothing, then he could always continue what he was doing as long as he remained alive. But his heart, his ego still hurt. He'd never failed at anything before. Kenny was a slow learner, granted, and he knew that. But he wasn't a quitter if it meant survival. But school … he could survive without school. All he needed was food to survive, really.

Before leaving the school grounds, he turned around and looked back at the white buildings that made up the establishment, that made up the Holy Forest Academy. All around him, students Kenny's age walked with bags slung over their shoulders, or mini suitcases in their hands. The girls were dressed in white blouses with a pastel yellow sleeveless button up vest overtop. Green bowties poked from underneath the shirt collars. The boys were dressed in similar fashion to Uchiyamada, only their blazers were black. Some of them carried them over their shoulders, as the spring air proved a little too warm to dress so formally. This exposed their ties and short sleeve white dress shirts that rippled in the breeze.

Kenny gazed in adoration at the students, similar in age but completely different in lifestyle. They were rich. He could tell by the way they dressed. Their cushy, comfortable lives under the finances of mommy and daddy shone off them like an aura in the way the moved, talked, and gossiped about each other.

In stark contrast, kids like Kenny, the street kids, didn't waste time gossiping. If they didn't like you, they'd beat you up, take your food, newspaper blankets, and money, and leave you to rot.

Standing in the midst of these rich, pampered, well dressed children, Kenny understood that the only thing he had in common in them was age. His soiled yellow T-shirt about one size too big, black shorts, and worn sneakers set him apart from the rest of the kids. No wonder Uchiyamada had looked upon him with disgust. If Kenny were in his shoes, he'd probably have done the same. Or … maybe not. He didn't know, and he wasn't going to waste time pondering over situations that were unlikely to occur.

His stomach growled and that was what snatched his attention away from the students of Holy Forest Academy at the moment. It was time to eat. And before he could do that, he needed some money. There was no better place to be a pick pocket, with all these rich kids around him, their own pockets overflowing with money. Kenny's mouth began to water at the thought of his earnings if he were to spend an entire afternoon here!

Like the keen eyes of a predator, his gaze was drawn to a man getting of the bus. Kenny always liked a challenge. The students were talking to each other, so heavily involved with their unimportant conversations that stealing money from them would be like taking candy from a baby. But the man that got off the bus was older, probably in his early to mid-twenties with short, dyed-blonde hair and a lean, muscular build that showed beneath the T-shirt he wore. He wore baggy jeans and sneakers, dressed not unlike Kenny, only this guy's clothes were cleaner and wrinkle-free. He held a lit cigarette between his teeth, smoking it as he walked.

The man looked at Kenny, forcing the youth to take a step back in surprise. It was as if he could read Kenny's mind, even from this distance. Kenny forced himself to keep it cool, to continue approaching him as if nothing was amiss.

"Excuse me," the youth asked, when he was within speaking distance, "do you have the time, sir?"

"Oh yeah," the man replied, glancing at his watch. "It's ten to nine."

"I'm sorry," Kenny said, leaning in closer, "what was that again?" His thin hand reached into the man's pocket like a wiry snake, snatching whatever was in there between the tips of his fingers. Goal.

A rough hand seized his wrist with a death grip, forcing a startled cry out of him. The man looked at Kenny and smirked. "That's the oldest trick in the book," he said, blowing a puff of smoke into his face, forcing the youth to cough in retaliation.

"Kyoutou!" Kenny gasped, upon getting a closer look at the man's face. _Gang member._ He was a gang member. He'd had a run-in with gang members in the past, these giant men who would scare the daylights out of him and threaten to kill him. They never actually acted on these threats, but Kenny never put it past them to act on their word. They had a notorious reputation on the streets on Tokyo for violence and crime, though he sensed they had some kind of honor system, as he'd never heard of any of the street kids getting killed by them before. The kids, after all, were no match for the biker gangs.

This man had the look of a _kyoutou_ in his eyes. They had this way of looking at you that would cause your heart to leap into your throat with fear, your hands to go sweaty, your knees to start trembling. Usually when not on their screaming bikes, they walked around in large coats with Chinese ideograms written all over the fabric, and you could spot one from a mile away so you'd know well beforehand to stay out of their way. But what in the world was he doing dressed as a street kid?

"Next time, just use a gun and rob them," the man said, releasing his arm, but not before snatching his wallet back. Then, much to Kenny's surprise, his stern, fear-inspiring gaze melted into a genuine smile. He tousled the youth's hair and carried on his way.

That certainly wasn't the reaction Kenny had been expecting. One second this guy was a punkish pedestrian ripe for the picking. Next, he was a gangster and had Kenny trapped, ready to kill him. The next, the was the nicest guy Kenny had ever come across.

He began to walk away, but with burning curiosity, turned around and asked the man, "Who are you?"

The man looked over his shoulder at the youth, the triumphant smirk still on his face. He cocked his head towards the gossiping kids on the school grounds. "They call me Onizuka sensei."


	2. Chapter One: Holy Forest's Holy Angel

Kenny was about the leave the school grounds of Holy Forest Academy after his encounter with that mysterious, bleach blond, facially pierced, yakuza teacher. He had regretted ever coming here from the beginning, first from meeting with the vice principal Uchiyamada, and now the gangster teacher who called himself Onizuka sensei. What kind of environment could you find a complete asshole in the skin of a respectable man in the case of the vice principal, or a street thug in the guise of a teacher?

Life on the street had thought Kenny to be wary of how people appeared on the outside, which was usually a sharp contrast to the kind of people they were on the outside. But in such a kill or be killed environment, it was necessary for people to use others, to put on a face, to hide your true intentions. That was the law of surviving on the streets. But this was a school! Kenny had always wanted a better life for himself, but if the laws of the streets extended beyond the pavements and into high society, he wasn't sure what he was working towards anymore by investing in an education.

His stomach growled again.

So the attempt to sneak Onizuka's wallet from him yielded no results. But sitting across the parking lot from the bench upon which he sat, Kenny spotted Uchiyamada's white Cresta. Or more specifically, it was as if the car, it all its beauty, its smooth surface gleaming flawlessly in the spring sunshine was looking at _him._ Beckoning him.

Those chrome rims accentuated the sleek shape of the vehicle properly. The insignia sitting in the center of the hood looked like some kind of small trophy carved from the finest silver. Kenny wondered how much the insignia alone would be worth, if he could somehow get it off the car. Hell, there wasn't anything stopping him from taking the whole damned vehicle.

Considering he couldn't drive, that would've been a wasted effort. He'd probably only be stopped a few blocks down the road after crashing it into a lamp pole or another car. But there had to be at least some money inside the Cresta for him to buy a decent meal with. Kenny reached into his back pocket and fished out a metal rod he kept with him at all times. His specialty was pick pocketing, but when desperate times called for desperate measures, he could be considered a respectable car thief. Not one who stole cars, but one who stole what was in the cars.

He looked around for any potential witnesses. A few students on their break stood around the school grounds, the bulk of them having headed off to class already. He walked up to the vehicle casually, twirling the folded aluminum rod in his pocket, ready to get to work as soon as he was within respectable distance.

When he got close enough for the large, sleek body of the Cresta to block whatever he planned on doing to the door, he pulled out the rod and prepared to get to work.

Then someone got in his way.

She was an elderly leady with a head of straight, gray hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head. Large glasses covered her slightly wrinkled face which gave him a genuine smile. Kenny got flustered, felt the sweat break on his forehead, and at the very least, tried to smile back at this approachable lady. But now was the worst time to be approached by anyone.

"Good morning," she said, her warm smile coming into focus now as he neared Kenny. He was about to return her greeting but she cut him off. "Now, I'm all for students exploring ways to express themselves, but school time is hardly the time to be doing that, don't you agree?"

Kenny wrinkled his brows at her. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he said nervously. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

She looked at him, disappointed, not unlike how a mother would react to her lying son. "Why aren't you in class, and where is your uniform? Only the seniors would be out by now, as their classes don't start for another half hour. But you clearly aren't a senior."

"I'm not a student at this school, ma'am," Kenny replied, and immediately bit his lip. So he'd told the truth. Perhaps now, he would tell her why he looked so interested in Uchiyamada's Cresta, or hell, why he was even on school grounds in the first place.

"Oh, how foolish of me," the woman said, putting a hand to her mouth. "Of course you aren't, if those are application forms I see in your hands."

Kenny's heart skipped a beat. She'd noticed his resume and the school's application forms in his grasp. Did she happen to see the aluminum rod, his tool of choice for breaking into cars? "Y…yeah," he stammered. "I just came in for an interview with the vice principal today."

The woman cocked an eyebrow. "And you're not with your parents?"

"It's a complicated story. I had to come on my own."

"Hm," the woman said said, furrowing her brows as she shifted her gaze downwards, as if contemplating something. "We need to see more students like you, taking initiative, being responsible, showing that you actually care about your education. May I have a look at your papers?" The kind woman reached an open palm out. Kenny guessed it was alright to show her. It didn't matter anyway. He wasn't going to get into the school. Mr. Uchiyamada had made that pretty clear, and hell, this lady had almost caught him trying to break into the Cresta. She'd have to be a moron not to have noticed, so Kenny understood that she was pretending not to have noticed. But what could have motivations be?

"My goodness, Kenny, is that you?" the woman asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh shit. He knew this woman. Kenny studied the woman's kind face, trying to place it somewhere in his past. Maybe she looked a little familiar … or was he trying so hard to recognize her that he made himself believe he knew her?

"I … I'm sorry," he said, politely, "where do I know you from?"

She smiled forgivingly and gently reminded him. "I'm Mayu's grandmother."

"Mrs. Sakurai!" Kenny exclaimed in shock. "I … I'm so sorry! I completely didn't recognize you!"

"It's been awhile I've seen you," Mrs. Sakurai said. "How have you been? I had no idea you were planning on attending Holy Forest Academy."

"Well, you know, I heard some good things about the school and decided to give it a shot. Mayu tried convincing me against it, but I'd already made up my mind …"

"That's so like him," Mrs. Sakurai said, shaking her head in disapproval at her grandson.

"Well I hear his album's going platinum soon," Kenny said, sticking up for his street friend, "so even though he might not have gone to school, he's still doing pretty well in life, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," Mrs. Sakurai admitted. "But nevertheless, it's still good to see you trying to make your future brighter. Unlike Mayu, most of us can't count on too much luck. So, how did your interview go?"

"Not so well …" Kenny said.

"I expected as much, going by what's on these papers. Mr. Uchiyamada wasn't too hard on you, was he?" Going by the look on her face, she already knew the answer, but there was always hope for her that the crazy vice principal would change his ways.

"Let's just say the interview wasn't as successful as I'd hoped," Kenny replied.

"You should have let me know, Kenny," Mrs. Sakurai said. "I wouldn't have let you go through an interview with him. We have had issues with Mr. Uchiyamada's social policies in the past. Most students deserve the kind of treatment he can dish out, but not people like you. Why didn't you come to me sooner? I could've helped you get into the school and …"

"I didn't approach you because it would've been selfish of me. I mean, I have not seen Mayu in so long, and all of a sudden, I'm approaching you for selfish reasons."

"After giving Mayu your friendship, you can ask anything from me, Kenny. As the chairwoman of this school, I will personally review your papers."

Kenny wanted to laugh to himself. There wasn't anything much to consider really. He lived on the street and was an expert pick pocket, and a less than expert car thief. He was flexible enough to throw an ankle behind his ear and his hobbies included roof hopping, skipping pebbles and making origami from discarded sheets of paper he'd find in garbage cans.

"They've already been reviewed," he explained sheepishly.

"By Mr. Uchiyamada, I assume," Mrs. Sakurai said. Kenny just nodded, unsure whether scoffing or smiling at the mention of the vice-principal's name was more appropriate in front of the school's chairwoman. "He can be a little difficult at times, perhaps a little condescending. I hope he didn't say too much to you, Kenny."

"I've taken worse from the Tokyo businessmen," Kenny said, shrugging. Mrs. Sakurai sighed at the decomposition of public decency in Japan.

"When can you start classes?" she asked.

"As soon as tomorrow," Kenny replied.

"How does next week sound?"

"Are you seriously letting me into the school, Mrs. Sakurai?" he asked, narrow eyes widening with pure joy.

"How are we going to take kids and gangs off the streets if we don't give them a chance at education, a chance for a brighter future? As the educators of our future populations, we as academic instructors play a vital role in shaping the future of our pupils. And you, my young Kenneth Feng, are a part of Japan's future, regardless of your Chinese ancestry."

**XXXXX**

Kenny had never worn a suit and tie in his life. He didn't like how the thin material bunched up in all the wrong places like at the sides of his body, stretched out across his shoulder blades, and that wasn't even taking into account the black tie threatened to choke him to death. He'd never worn a tie either, so he just bunny-eared it like he did his shoe lace, which earned him a few strange glares from his fellow pedestrians as he walked to school without even so much as a backpack. The uniform was delivered to him by Mrs. Sakurai herself. She personally knew about the kind of life Kenny led, after being friends with her grandson Mayu. The kind old woman never approved of the way the boys were leading their lives, but had decided it wasn't her place to say anything. Thinking about it now, it didn't surprise Kenny that she'd leapt at the opportunity to put him in school and educate him.

"I know just the teacher for you," she told him the day she dropped the shrink wrapped uniform beside the refrigerator in the alley where he lived. "He's not like any other teacher you might have heard of. He has a strange way of doing things but his devotion to his students is unwavering."

"Sounds like he needs a life," Kenny said.

"You'll see what I mean," Mrs. Sakurai said, patting Kenny on the shoulder.

And that's what he was about to do today. He was going to see what she meant. Kenny wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Mrs. Sakurai told him that the assigned teacher wasn't like any other teacher he's heard of. Well Kenny never had any prior exposure to school and had therefore heard of no teacher. Were they nice people? And if they were, did that mean _his _teacher was a grumpy old man? Maybe he had a fetish for students, or was a loser in life and couldn't get a better paying job. Maybe his teacher was a boring man who droned for hours and hours in a classroom. Maybe he led an exciting life as a traveler, a photographer, a gambler, a transsexual.

It had only been a week but this time, he stepped back onto Holy Forest property as an actual student. And vice-principal Uchiyamada played no part in his success; he owed everything to Mrs. Sakurai. Kenny reached into his pocket and pulled out a note from the lady.

"Class 3-4," Kenny read to himself. The first number indicated the year, the second was the number of the class. "So I'm in class four." A knot tightened in his stomach. This class had been together for two years prior, and had most likely formed a bond and lasting friendships with each other. And here Kenny was, joining them so late in their socials lives. He could only hope to make a good impression on his peers, let alone form any sort of bond with them.

He walked into the classroom, a classroom filled with kids dressed similarly to him. They all looked the same in their suits and ties, the girls in their short skirts and cardigans. How was he supposed to get to know everyone when he couldn't even tell the difference between them? Kenny thought about it for a second and realized that he probably didn't stand out too much from the crowd. Maybe he would go by unnoticed. Maybe nobody would think he was any more special than anyone else, and be forced to endure the year alone.

A few glances were shot in his direction, but nobody said anything to him. He found an empty desk and sat down near the front, wondering if there were any eyes glaring at his back. He turned over his shoulder to look, seeing his classmates still huddled in their groups, his presence having gone unnoticed. It didn't make a difference to them if he'd been invisible.

The lights in the classroom were off. The windows flanking the west wall were open, the blinds drawn, allowing natural sunlight to illuminate his surroundings. Desks were placed in neat rows reaching the back of the room. The chalkboard, nailed to the wall at the front of the room, was spotless, like it had never been used before.

A pair of boys entered the room. The taller one sported a darker complexion than your average oriental person. The shorter one had a downcast gaze; small in build, and vaguely reminded Kenny of himself.

"Kunio!" a girl called from the back of the room. "Oh my gosh, you look wonderful!"

"How's it goin', Miyabi!" the tall, darker boy said, his face lighting up. "Good to see you decided to come back this year!" He walked briskly by Kenny without so much as taking a glance at him. The smaller boy, who Kenny had yet hear his name, remained quiet and found a place beside him and sat down, taking his books out from his bag. This one probably wasn't that high up there in the social hierarchy, but not even he paid Kenny any attention.

"Alright, you little demons, time to get settled down!" a voice called out from the entrance. Sensei had finally made his appearance. Kenny looked up from his desk – realizing he'd been staring at the patterns on the wooden surface to keep his scared mind occupied – and to the teacher.

"Kyoutou!" he nearly shrieked with fear. It was the man he tried to pick pocket just a week prior. He hoped the teacher didn't recognize him as the thief. But who was he kidding? A gangster like that would never forget a face. Kenny fought against his body's instincts to tremble with fear.

The man with the bleach blond hair and multiple ear piercings stood at the front of the class, and immediately, the students stopped talking. There was no joking around with this teacher, and Kenny could understand why. His idea of discipline was to probably hang any students who dared step out of line by their ankles and drown them in a lake. He'd heard stories of the biker gangs doing that to anyone who had crossed them. But Kenny had done more than cross this man. He tried stealing his wallet. Sensei was probably going to string him up by the ankles and leave him hanging from a construction crane or something.

"I hope you guys had a productive summer," the teacher began, "but who am I kidding anyway. You're all … what, fifteen year old kids now?"

Kenny was actually thirteen, which made him two years younger than his peers. And he began to wonder why Mrs. Sakurai found it appropriate to place him in such an advanced class. He began to wonder if he'd have any trouble keeping up with the class material, especially for someone who's never been to school before.

"Yeah," the one previously referred to as Kunio replied, waving his hand from the back of the room where he sat. "And we've got another year's worth of trouble for you to contend with, Onizuka!"

Onizuka … That was what the teacher called himself the time Kenny tried stealing his wallet the other day. And that name suddenly struck a chord with him. Onizuka Eikichi; that was his full name, wasn't it? Kenny stared ahead at his teacher's face, studying the angled jaw, the blonde hair, dark eyebrows, narrow eyes and high cheekbones. The facial features looked somewhat familiar, yet the hair … not so much. He'd seen this guy somewhere before, and whatever meeting they had that escaped Kenny at the moment, it dated back much farther than last week.

"Bring it on," Onizuka challenged, "but before we can get started we've got a new student joining us this year, so you guys better start treating him with the same respect you treat each other. Wait a second …" He took a moment to rethink his words. "Just treat him well and make him feel welcome, okay? I don't think I should have to tell you twice." Onizuka's eyes locked onto Kenny's huddled form at the front of the room, arms wrapped around his waist, wishing himself to disappear from the view of this gangster teacher.

"There you are!" Onizuka exclaimed excitedly. "Come on up to the front and introduce yourself to us all." Kenny didn't move for a second. "Come on, don't be shy …" And then Kenny looked up at his teacher, who took a step back, eyes wide with surprise. Onizuka pointed a shaky finger at the boy. "Pick pocket!"

"Ah … I'm sorry …" Kenny said meekly. "I … I didn't know you were … um …"

"The kid tried to steal from Onizuka Sensei?" Kunio called out. "Not a good way to start the year, man."

"Settle down, Kunio!" Onizuka ordered. "I was just playin'. Alright, kiddo, come on up and tell us your name. I, uh … I've sorta lost the attendance sheet."

Kenny reluctantly obliged and got up from his desk slowly. The class had quieted down to the point where the scraping of his chair against the floor was almost deafening. His heart thundered in his chest. He turned around to face the sea of faces staring back at him and seized up.

"Minna san, ohayou gozaimasu," he said so softly, it might as well have been a whisper. _Good morning, everyone._ He made a visible effort to speak in the most polite form of Japanese he knew. "Boku no namae wa Hyou Goken desu. Jyuu-san sai. Kenny to yondemo ii desu. Yoroshiku onegai shimasu." _My name is Hyou Goken, thirteen years old. Please call me Kenny. Nice to meet you. _He bowed his head to all present.

Onizuka put a hand on his shoulder. "There are matters I'd like to discuss with you after today's class, Kenny," he said. "You might be a little late for your next class, but I'll write you a note."

Kenny looked back at the expressions of his classmates, who seemed impassive, other than the Kunio kid who absolutely terrified him. But at that point, he'd rather have taken his chances with him than the gangster Onizuka sensei. Kenny looked back up at Onizuka, who smiled down at him, and gulped down the lump forming in his throat.


	3. Chapter 2: A Lesson in History

Kenny watched as the students headed out of the classroom chatting noisily as they went, patting their teacher, Onizuka Sensei on their way out. Onizuka returned their cheerful smiles, joking around with his pupils as they left, though Kenny sensed a certain unrest under his calm, cheerful demeanor; an unrest that was directed at him. The students seemed to love their teacher, and Kenny wondered how good of a teacher Mr. Onizuka could be for him to earn the trust of his entire homeroom class. From the earliest of his memories, Eikichi Onizuka was not one to be trifled with; a man who would find creative ways of inflicting pain and suffering among any individual unfortunate enough to cross his path. And that was exactly what Kenny had done earlier last week without realizing just who he was dealing with. And he tried to steal Onizuka's wallet!

But the façade Onizuka put on now seemed to suggest a completely different person; one who was content with life, who worried more about the welfare of his pupils than the poor pay he was likely receiving as a high school teacher. He seemed so … honorable. And Kenny had little doubt that was what the students were drawn to. That was how they perceived him. But Kenny knew better. After all, none of these kids had ever come across Eikichi Onizuka during his days as a bosozoku – a member of one of the notorious motorcycle gangs that prowled the Tokyo streets.

A hand clapped on his shoulder, startling Kenny, causing him to jump in his seat. He hadn't moved since the bell had rung, afraid of Onizuka's reaction to the anxiousness he was hoping to hide. Did the teacher recognize him from his earlier days? Kenny had hoped not. Regardless, even if Onizuka didn't remember him, Kenny would still likely be in some serious trouble for having attempted to steal his wallet and … his mind was swimming with all the possibilities of the punishment he was about to undergo.

"Welcome to Holy Forest Academy," Mr. Onizuka said. The same cheerful smile he displayed to all his students did not elude Kenny.

"T-thank you, sir," Kenny stammered back, wondering what could be going on behind those narrowed eyes staring at him from a few heads above him. Kenny had to move his gaze upwards to meet Onizuka's.

"You can quit with all this formality," Onizuka continued, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket. He lit it up with a zippo, tucked it back into the pocket and took a drag. "You're in school among people your own age. There's no need for all this. You've yet to get a job."

"It wasn't the easiest to make a good impression to try and get in," Kenny admitted.

"Uchiyamada, right?" Onizuka exhaled through the corner of his mouth.

"How did you know?"

"The guy's pretty uptight," he replied, shrugging, "but he means well. If only he could get past that conservative mindset of his, he'd be able to see the potential of every student in this school – trash or not." He gave Kenny a wink.

Kenny was taken slightly aback at his teacher's words. "I … I'm not trash."

"No, no, of course not," Onizuka chuckled, "but all it takes is a stubborn person, and discriminatory mindset and you're well on your way to being labeled one."

"But I don't understand why he would label me as …"

"Because you're a street child," Onizuka interrupted, and Kenny was silenced, unable to think of anything else to say. "You can stop playing dumb now. I know you know who I am. And you know what, Kenny? I remember you too."

"I'm sorry, sir," Kenny apologized, "it's just that – well, I had no idea of knowing you were a teacher in this school, and I was only trying to get some money for lunch and …"

"I wasn't talking about last week when you tried to steal my wallet," Onizuka interrupted, taking another drag from his smoke. "You honestly think you could've gotten away with it if I didn't know who you were? I held back, kid, because I know you. Think farther back than last week."

"I remember," Kenny admitted sheepishly, staring down at his feet. Now he had legitimate reason to fear Onizuka's wrath. He'd said to think farther back than last week, during one of the bosozoku gang wars, and time where Kenny played a part in attempting to destroy to Onibaku duo – one half of which was standing in front of him right now. "Eikichi …" he addressed his teacher by his first name, all formalities and pretenses thrown out the window.

"That's what I'm talking about," Mr. Onizuka said, "forget all this formality bullshit. You know who I am and I know who you are." He squatted to meet Kenny at eye level while the youth sat in his seat, wondering what his teacher would say next. "And of all schools for you to apply to, it had to be this one – and in my homeroom class. Sounds like a little more than coincidence, don't you think?" Onizuka's tone was laced with accusation.

But what was Kenny supposed to say? Of course it had been a coincidence. After his encounter with the Onibaku duo, who had eliminated every single member of Kenny's bosozoku group, he'd been living in fear of them tracking him down and finishing the job. But they had mysteriously vanished shortly after without a trace, without an explanation. He wondered if they were simply regrouping, trying to find his whereabouts and kill him, or if they'd simply moved on and since that time, Kenny had spent his life trying to live in ambiguity. Now that mystery was a mystery no more – Onizuka had moved on, and his partner in crime, Ryuji Danma was still unaccounted for though it was safe to say he had given up the lifestyle too – or so Kenny hoped.

"So I'm just gonna cut to the chase," Onizuka said. "Why have you come here? How was it that of the hundreds of schools in the Kanto area, you just so happened to end up here? And of all the classes, you're in mine? And being two years younger than the others in this class, you belong in the lower grades."

"It was Mrs. Sakurai who determined my placement," Kenny insisted, though Onizuka seemed to pay his excuses no heed.

"The Onibaku duo has dissolved," he said. "That's all been left in the past now, and it'd be for your own good if you left it behind too, because if you've come here looking for trouble ..."

"Eikichi, no!" Kenny pressed. "I don't care about the past!"

"Ryuji and I have made changes to our lives and we wish to leave those days where they belong," Onizuka continued, ignoring Kenny's protests. "Of course, unless that means nothing to you …"

"But I …"

"If you're here for revenge," Onizuka said, the mere thought of it disturbing him greatly, "then leave the other kids out of this. If you want to finish what we started then …" He took a moment to carefully consider what he was saying. "…then I'm game. Just don't bring any of your beef to school cause if you endanger the other kids, Kenny, I swear to God …"

"I'm not here to hurt anyone!" Kenny finally cried, anger tinting his voice. "I came here to finally put my life on track, to get an education so I can make something out of myself, with not a cent to my name, in a private institution of all places and I went through hell to get here! And now that I am here, I need these past problems cropping up as much as you do, Eikichi! You've got to believe me!"

"And you'll understand if I don't?"

"Only if you understand why I think you're only here to lose your virginity to some school girl."

"Touche." Onizuka butt out his cigarette in a little tin container extracted from his pocket and exhaled the last of the smoke from his lungs. "Alright, Kenny, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I'll believe you. But I'll be watching you, kid. Every one of the students in this school has potential to capitalize on who they are and to make something of it. And having dealt with you before, I _know _you are no exception. But my distrust comes from not knowing whether you really have put the past behind you." Onizuka tossed a sheet of paper on Kenny's desk. "Here's the late note for your next class."

"Thanks, Eikichi," Kenny said as he pocketed the note.

"No problem, kiddo," Onizuka replied while he stepped out the door. "Oh, and one more thing, Kenny."

"Yeah?"

"On school grounds, I'm Onizuka Sensei to you." He winked. "Remember that."

**XXXXX**

Kenny stumbled after the tail end of his class as they made their way to English, carefully observing the faces of people, trying to recall whether or not he'd seen them in homeroom class. It wasn't until a few wrong turns and collisions with fellow schoolmates when he decided to give up and declare himself lost. It was hard to tell who was who anyway, and he wasn't completely sure the group of girls he'd been tailing really was from homeroom or not. The blue vests they wore over collared short-sleeved shirts looked identical, except some of the skirts were that were hiked up higher than others indicated the more popular ones. But even they were running rampant and not exclusive to Onizuka's class only.

He considered asking someone, anyone, for directions to where his English teacher's classroom was located a Miss … what was her name … Fuyutsuki? Kenny wasn't sure if that was the name he read on the schedule Mrs. Sakurai had dropped off along with his uniform but – oh, the schedule! Kenny mentally slapped himself for being so stupid and he remembered stuffing the folded sheet of paper into his dress pants before rushing off excitedly to his first day of school.

"Hyou Goken, is it?" a voice asked from behind him.

Kenny jumped in surprise and turned around to face a boy barely taller than himself with a head of medium length, jet black hair, built about as skinny as Kenny himself.

"Y…yes," Kenny stammered. "Were you in Onizuka's homeroom?"

"Yeah," the boy replied, extending a hand. "I sat beside you, but I don't think you noticed me."

"Oh, I was just nervous that's all," Kenny replied, accepting the friendly gesture as the pair shared a handshake. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name during attendance."

"Yoshikawa Noboru."

"Kenneth Feng, but please, call me Kenny."

"I thought you said your last name was Hyou ..."

"Yeah, but that's just the Japanese translation. I go by Kenny."

"Feng … You're not from around here are you?"

"Osaka," Kenny replied.

"I meant …"

"Oh, you mean ethnically?"

Noboru nodded, embaressed.

"I ..." Kenny paused, but then deciding that the truth was better, finished his sentence, "... don't know. But my name is of Chinese origin so I guess ... "

Noboru's brows raised a little, and Kenny could feel the nervous sweat breaking all over his forehead. Noticing Kenny's discomfort, Noboru swiftly changed the subject.

"I noticed you were looking a little lost," Noboru said, chuckling, "so I decided to come out and get you. We're standing right in front of Fuyutsuki's class."

Kenny felt the rush of blood to his face. So by complete fluke, he'd found his way over to the class he was supposed to be in and it was because he was too busy checking the skirt lengths of the girls to bother looking into the rooms to see if he could spot any classmates. He didn't want to consider the possibility of Noboru not coming outside to grab him. None of this would have happened if Onizuka hadn't kept him behind after homeroom. But they had shared a needed discussion. Kenny wasn't sure how long he could've kept pretending his teacher wasn't one half of the infamous, fearsome Onibaku duo that had once terrorized him. And he didn't think Eikichi – no, Onizuka Sensei – could have lived like that either, knowing that a potential threat to him sat in front of him as one of the students he was supposed to mentor.

Kenny had always known he had shit for luck, from his situation to living in some box in an alley, not knowing where exactly it was he came from, the bank account set up in his name by some mysterious individual he'd never met who'd deposit money regularly for him to withdraw from a single debit card, his traumatic experience in the bosozoku wars, and now his homeroom teacher at school, who just so happened to be one of the gangsters who tried to kill him. How in the world was he going to survive his first school year?

XXXXX

Kenny stumbled back into the alley he called home, absent-mindedly kicking away scraps of newspaper lying in his way. The humidity level this afternoon was unbearably high. He slipped his backpack off his shoulders, feeling a cool breeze where the sweat had collected in his armpits. He was about to collapse against a makeshift couch, consisting of carefully arranged stacks of newspaper when he jumped. Someone was already siting there. Before he could do anything else, the person spoke.

"It's me."

"Mayu," Kenny breathed with a sigh of relief.

"You remember. I'm touched."

"An alley is the last place I'd expect to find a pop star," Kenny commented.

"I remember my roots," Mayu said, shrugging modestly. "Grandma told me about you, what you're trying to do with your life."

"What? About going to school?"

"Yeah. I'm impressed."

"Well," Kenny said, "not all of us can put on a show like you can."

"Do I sense a little jealousy?"

"Maybe a drop," Kenny admitted sheepishly.

"I didn't come here to rub it in, you know," Mayu explained, starting to get a little defensive.

"I know," Kenny replied. "If you hadn't had the success you've enjoyed, I don't think I'd be going to school right now. The way we managed to get out of the bosozoku wars, that's one thing we both succeeded in. But getting off the streets ... well, you made me want to do the same for myself."

"I know, and when Grandma told me, I was surprised - in a good way. That's why I'm here." Mayu got off the couch and stepped towards Kenny. "I want to help you." He looked at Kenny with a straight face as he said this. Kenny looked for any sign of a joke in his face, a jovial smirk perhaps, or sarcasm in his tone. But he could find none. "I mean it," Mayu continued. "Being in your ..." he looked at the filthy alley, the cardboard box where Kenny slept, the grimy sheets of newspaper lying about, "...situation, you're not in the best position to be paying for your education. And I want to help you with what money I make."

"Look, that's really nice of you," Kenny said, "but I don't know if I even dare to ask that much of you. I mean ..."

"You're not asking me to help you. I'm telling you I'm doing it."

"But don't I get a say ...?"

"Nope." There was the jovial smirk in his face. But despite that, Kenny got the feeling he wasn't joking. "You don't know how lucky you are, not only being in that school, but having Onizuka as your homeroom teacher."

"What!" Kenny cried. "Mayu, you know as well as I do about my run-ins with Eikichi!"

"Look," Mayu said, "I didn't know Onizuka as a motorcycle gang member. All I've heard are the rumors about the Onibaku duo, and how they singlehandedly wiped the Noguchi Confederates off the face of the Kanto streets."

"The gang that I belonged to ..." Kenny noted.

"One of the bloodiest battles in the history of gang warfare," Mayu agreed. "You're lucky my group found you. I honestly don't know how you crawled out of that battle alive."

"You say that, but then you also say how fortunate I am to have Eikichi as a teacher."

"Onizuka Sensei, Kenny," Mayu corrected firmly. "He's an amazing teacher, and an inspiring person. You want to talk about changing your life? You don't need to look any further than Onizuka."

"I don't understand."

"I hated him at first," Mayu admitted. "I thought he was just another teacher trying to take advantage of Class 4. Miyabi usually handled them well enough on her own, but she approached me last year, desperate for help. She made these ridiculous claims about Kikuchi and Murai, among others, siding with the new teacher. Well, it sounded ridiculous at the time, but now I fully understand why they chose to stick with Onizuka."

"You go on and on about this guy and how great he is," Kenny said, frowning, "but I had the most intimidating one on one conversation with him today and you've said nothing to make me feel better about the whole situation, nothing about why I should feel lucky."

"It'd take too long to explain the whole story to you here. But there's one very important thing you should know."

"And that would be ...?" Kenny was growing impatient with Mayu for not cutting straight to the chase.

"Onizuka puts his life on the line for his students," Mayu said grimly. "And there's nobody else you'd want by your side when ... I mean ..."

"...Why would I need somone watching out for me?" Kenny asked shakily.

"The Onibaku duo was revered, partly because of the fact that the Noguchi Confederates weren't a gang that anyone would mess dare mess with. I'm sure you know the kind of shit they've done to people who've double-crossed them."

"Eliminated," Kenny said. "Everyone who's dared to step on their toes, and everyone related to them."

"That's the word on the street," Mayu agreed, "but they didn't always follow through entirely with their homicides. People were mistakenly left alive. And when you take everything away from someone, they have nothing left to lose. They only feel the pain of their loss. They say misery loves company and that's why ..."

"Revenge?"

Mayu nodded. "Against all the members of the Noguchi Confederates."

"We've dissolved."

"They were killed."

"But the group is GONE!"

Mayu shook his head and jabbed a finger into Kenny's chest. "Not everyone is."

Kenny felt the wind driven out of him. He had been living a quiet, solitary life begging for food and money. Nobody had ever approached him aggressively before, with the exception of a few rude upper class citizens. But nobody of a lower class. Nobody of street stature. How could this be happening to him all of a sudden? Was this some sick trick Mayu was trying to pull? No, Mayu was a prankster, but it didn't usually involve mind games with his victims, let alone his friends. Besides, Kenny had never seen his friend so dead serious about anything before.

"That's why I told Grandma to put you in Class 4. You need Onizuka's help, Kenny."


	4. Chapter 3: New Dangers for a New Year

The next morning, after homeroom class had ended, Kenny remained in his seat and watched the students file out of the room in an orderly manner, casually moving slowly, not wanting their time with Onizuka to end. The homeroom teacher continued joking with his students without bothering to usher them on to their next class. Since starting at this school a few days ago, Kenny had continually wondered how someone like Onizuka was able to get his job in a prestigious private academy such as this, let alone keep it. Was this the same Onizuka of the Oni-Baku duo who went around trying to get his dick in the pants of every girl unfortunate to cross his path? Was this the same Onizuka who destroyed the street gang that so readily took Kenny in and provided a home and protection from him, the same Onizuka who years before, very nearly killed Kenny with his own bare hands? 

The more he remembered of their past, Kenny's fear of Onizuka slowly surfaced. Images of the final days of his gang, the Noguchi Confederates, flashed before his eyes – the day the Oni-Baku duo destroyed every member who stood before them. In a way, he felt thankful that the gang was no more. Kenny had never actively participated in their dealings – he had looked to them as a group of big brothers and sisters who took care of him – yet he never truly understood what they were about. It had taken the gang's destruction to see what the Noguchi Confederates, and the gang wars they participated in were all about. Still, as much as he disapproved of the kind of business they dealt with, a part of him yearned for the kind of protection and sense of family they offered.

And that was all taken away from him in the span of twenty minutes as Onizuka and Ryuji shot, stabbed and killed every single person who had showed Kenny even a shred of love. He would've felt anger and hatred, if not for the fear that suffocated him at that moment. He was seven.

Kenny had only been living with the Noguchi Confederates for just under a year at the time. Being young as he was, Kenny found it difficult to not let his fear get the better of him. He remembered being huddled behind a crate in the warehouse his gang members had arranged as a meeting place to ambush the Oni-Baku duo. They had filled him with stories on how evil Eikichi Onizuka and Ryuji Danma were, and why they needed to be taken out. Kenny sensed for the beginning that this plan spelled trouble but lacked the words, authority or courage to voice his opinions. Instead, he'd chosen to put his trust in the elders and watch from afar. He hadn't realized how right his instincts were when they were so ruthlessly …

From behind the crate, Kenny began mourning his gang mates. Ryuji and Onizuka had heard him and came to investigate. He remembered being swallowed up by their giant shadows as they glared down menacingly at him. He remembered continuing to whimper and tucked his face in his arms. He was so scared, his limbs shoulders couldn't stop shaking. He wanted them to kill him quickly and painlessly. He didn't want to suffer like his comrades did but he wasn't sure they were so willing to show him much mercy.

"Take this little rat out, Ryuji," Onizuka said.

There was a pause. For that moment, Ryuji didn't answer his friend.

"If he survives, he'll grow up to resent us and take revenge. There's one less enemy we need right now."

"There's never been an enemy we can't handle, Onizuka," Ryuji said. "This one's barely learned how to walk. If he wants to come for revenge a few years down the road, let him. But now, I'm not killing a kid, Eikichi."

"I don't trust him." Onizuka said with finality.

"You don't have to," Ryuji replied. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Kenny peered out from his arms where he hid his face and watched the dup exit the warehouse, the former gang members of the Noguchi Confederates lying at their feet. Suddenly, as if his own body wanted to betray him, Kenny's stomach growled so loudly, the sound echoed off the walls of the warehouse and to the Duo's ears. They turned around to face Kenny with the most perplexed look on their faces and Kenny could feel his own face turning bright red.

"They said they were going to buy me some yakisoba after they were done killing you," Kenny said, trembling.

The scene vanished before Kenny's eyes in a second. Instead of the cold warehouse floor and wooden crates, Kenny now saw linoleum flooring and someone's hand in front of his face, snapping its fingers.

"Earth to Kenny." Onizuka was standing in front of him now, six years later. An Onizuka who had left his violent past behind him. And Kenny was no longer child. He was about to embark on his adolescent years and didn't want to screw it up like he could have if he stayed with the gang that harbored him.

Kenny looked around the classroom to find it was surprisingly empty.

"You're going to be late for your next class if you don't get out of here."

"S…sorry Onizuka Sensei," he replied earnestly. "I'm not going to Fuyutsuki's class today."

"What?! Skipping class?" Onizuka said, shocked by what he was hearing. "Listen, I know I'm probably the last person you expect to hear this from, but I know what you're trying to do with your life. And trust me, skipping classes won't help."

"I need to talk to you Onizuka," Kenny admitted. "Mayu visited me yesterday. Told me some really disturbing things."

"About what?"

"The past," Kenny replied.

"Mayu wasn't involved in the gang wars," Onizuka snapped. "At least not when we were."

"No, but he joined the scene shortly after we parted with it."

"I never knew you actually stopped," Onizuka admitted, folding his arms. He leaned back on the teacher's desk at the front of the room. Kenny remained seated at his in the first row. "When did you decide to leave?"

"The day the Oni-Baku killed my gang." Kenny couldn't look Onizuka in the eyes anymore. The fear he faced that day was unlike any other he'd ever experienced, even to this day.

"We didn't realize there was a child in their midst," Onizuka said. "Children don't normally participate in the gang wars and the street kids usually keep to their own devices. They just want food. But the gangs wanted trouble. So yeah, we didn't know you were with them."

"I never actually took part in their dealings," Kenny said, "Don't get me wrong, I never did anything bad. I just knew someone in their ranks who took me in cause they felt bad for me and …"

"They were probably the only people who gave two shits about you, weren't they?"

Kenny nodded.

"I have no regrets in doing what we did," Onizuka said. "They would have killed us that day if we didn't fight back. And if we had let them lived, they would only come at us again later. But … I am sorry for what you went through."

"You know," Kenny noted, "horrible as it was, I think it helped me in a way. Helped me see that the kind of path I was headed down could only lead to bad things."

He let out a soft chuckle. "You know, these kids," Onizuka motioned towards the empty classroom, "they would never believe I'd be capable of doing half the things I did. They only got to see the new and improved Onizuka. But you … you've seen the blood on my hands. Anyway, like I've said before, it's good that we've both left that behind us. But … what was it you came to talk to me about?"

"Well …" Kenny wasn't sure where to begin, especially after hearing how good it was to be able to turn over a new leaf. But after Mayu's visit, he wasn't sure if he'd been able to completely flip that leaf. "Apparently it's not over."

"That's what Mayu told you?"

"Yeah."

"With all due respects to Mayu, how would he know?"

"Mayu's been in touch with one of the street kids," Kenny said. "The Noguchi Confederates weren't exactly a quiet gang. They've done a lot of bad shit in the past, way before I was even involved with them."

"Like not only killing anyone who crossed them, but anyone who was even remotely related to them," Onizuka agreed.

"Anyway, they failed to wipe out one gang entirely. Kind of like what you did to us. You let me live. Well they let someone live too, only it was an accident."

"Who did they forget to kill?"

"It was a member of one of the Kawaramachi biker gangs in Kyoto. He was a kid, like me, at the time; a boy by the name of Genta Iwagaki. He's been stalking the Confederates even when they moved operations to Tokyo."

"I've heard that name before," Onizuka said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"You've encountered him too?" Kenny asked, amazed.

Onizuka nodded. "This is the second time this week I've heard someone mention the name."

"When was the first?"

"The first time was when I had a talk with Sakurai, just before you were admitted to Holy Forest. She made a mention of this kid … this is all making sense now …"

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

"No, you wouldn't," Onizuka explained. "But Sakurai pulled some strings for you to get into the school. She even got past Uchiyamada, who you might remember, flat out rejected your application. I was wondering what would possess her to go through such lengths to get some random street kid admitted a kind of place like Holy Forest. So when I found out it was you, I just assumed Mayu must've had something to do with it. But this isn't just some case of favoritism. If Genta is out there somewhere … shit …" Onizuka's eyes went wide with recognition.

"W…what's going on? You know who he is?" Kenny asked eagerly.

 "Genta …" Onizuka pointed a shaky finger at Kenny. "Before dissolving the Oni-Baku duo, Genta approached me and Ryuji. He said something about wanting revenge for his fallen gang members, and that it was the Confederates that killed them."

"What did you tell him?!"

Onizuka shrugged. "We just told him he was out of luck. We were finished with the gang wars."

"And he just accepted that?"

"Well, no. He looked pretty disappointed, and even tried a few times to encourage us to rethink our decision. Ryuji finally told him to bugger off, and that we weren't interested in taking him on even if we still wanted to continue the Oni-Baku alliance. Genta walked away pretty pissed off but we thought nothing of it at the time."

"When was this?"

"It happened five years ago, long after we'd left the scene. But the question is, Kenny, are you sure he's after you?"

"That's what Mayu said. He told me that Genta wasn't just any other 13 year old to be trifled with, that he really is dangerous and to come to you for help."

"And to make it easier, Sakurai went through all that trouble to get you past Uchiyamada's rejection papers and put you in my homeroom class even though you're a full year younger than the rest of my students. Damn, that sneaky woman! This is all making way too much sense!"

Kenny let out a sigh and thumped his head on his desk. "So it's not over, then …" he cried into the surface of the table. "This whole time I thought I was finally given a second chance to move on … Everything's catching up with me."

Onizuka walked over to Kenny and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault," he said. "You never actively participated in any of the Confederates' activities. You didn't know what they were doing behind your back. And as for Genta, he was just a deluded kid. Don't worry about him, Kenny. I'll take care of him."

"No," Kenny said. "I'm not sure yet whether I want to risk putting anyone else in danger."

"Hahaha," Onizuka laughed, "I've handled you when I was just a teenager, and single handedly took out Urumi, Miyabi, Kikuchi and Murai last year. Genta will be a cakewalk."

That feeling of dread that Kenny had preceding the attack on the Oni-Baku duo, that same feeling was forming now at the pit of his belly.


End file.
